


Remember Me

by ladygutterbaby



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Gaslighting, Memory Loss, Minor Violence, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29172003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygutterbaby/pseuds/ladygutterbaby
Summary: Daphne thinks she is happy, living in the mortal realm on a secluded island, no memory of her past. Until a familiar stranger appears one day to remind her that some things are worth remembering...
Relationships: Daphne/Thanatos (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 21





	1. The Trespasser

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to PhantomDingo and Myth_is_a_Mirror for being my brain and cheerleaders at the same time. You guys are the best.

I turned my hand from side to side so I could admire the new ring in the yellow afternoon light. The ring caught the light and glinted, giving it a sunburst glow. The band was simple but beautiful, no exotic gems or diamonds placed on top. It probably weighed less than a feather, and yet on my hand, it felt heavier than a cast iron pan. 

_You don’t wear jewelry, especially not on your hands. That’s why it feels weird,_ I reminded myself.

The heaviness had started last night when he proposed. Nothing fancy, just like the ring, but it was purposeful. Everything Sol did was purposeful.

_I love you, Daphne, marry me._

He didn’t even wait for an answer as he slid the ring onto my finger and enveloped me into a long kiss, his tongue immediately parting my lips to explore.

Not that he needed one, his question wasn’t a question but a declaration. Of course, I would have said yes, I would have been a fool not to.

As the night dragged on, my hand began to ache. So much so, I had to take the ring off so I could sleep.

When I put it back on this morning, the heaviness returned as if no time had passed. It quickly crept from my hand to my wrist, where it slithered up my arm, across my shoulder, and settled on my chest like a sleeping cat.

I took a quick intake of air, to remind myself that this chest-crushing pain was just visceral. Pre-wedding jitters. As I inhaled, my nose was assaulted by the smell of roses. I inhaled again: this time it’s roses mixed with seawater. I continued to breathe, _in and out, in and out,_ until my pulse slowed long enough for my breathing to unhitch. The garden was the only place where I could calm my panic long enough before it turned into a full-blown attack. I’ve been sitting here since breakfast, torturing myself by staring at the ring, and I wondered how much longer it would be before the servants got tired of watching me from the window and dragged me inside.

If it weren’t for the servants, I would probably spend all my time out here, only visiting the house when I needed food. It’s the only place where I feel truly peaceful; where I’m not bored out of my skull. I don’t even mind the dirt: the muck that clings to the hem of my dresses or the grit I can’t fully scrub out from underneath my nails. But because it’s not proper, especially for the future lady of the house, I am only allowed outside for short spurts of time. Sometimes I can wrangle a few extra minutes if the servants are distracted with chores.

There’s a sound, crunching gravel, and I see Thalia’s bobbing figure running towards me. My time was up. I stood up and stretched my hands to the sky, trying to relieve the dull ache that had settled in my lower back from sitting in one place too long. The old woman did not slow, her face was as flushed as a cherry as she pumped her thick arms back and forth.

“Be careful of the flowers!” I yelled. I had never seen Thalia run. She was steady and moved at her own pace, like the giant tortoises that washed up on our beaches. The only thing that moved quickly was her sharp tongue. It didn’t occur to me to wonder _why_ she was running.

“Thalia, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I said, once she reached me, almost knocking me over. I forced her onto the bench and rubbed her back as she gasped for air, her chest heaving. She sat bent forward as large droplets of sweat slid from her face, into her lap.

“A man,” she rasped. “Dangerous.”

My heart leapt into my throat. “How do you know he’s dangerous?” But I already knew the answer: there was a reason we lived on an island tucked away from civilization.

She whipped her head towards me. The fatigue suddenly gone, replaced by venom. “You’re not going down there,” she hissed, her narrowed eyes as bright as her cheeks.

“I didn’t say I was.” But my feet were already pointing towards the direction she had come. My body was vibrating with anticipation. “Listen, I’m just going to take a look. See what he’s doing and if he poses any threat. I promise to stay out of sight.”

_“Daphne!”_

She stretched a hand towards the back of my dress, clawing at the fabric. But it was too late, I was already gone, racing towards the mouth of the forest. 

*

I found the stranger in a clearing, kneeling over a sleeping stag. The clearing was animal-made, forged by the migrating deer, who liked to stop and graze at this particular spot. It had once been a lush field, overflowing with grass that reached past my shoulders, but now nothing was left but a few yellowed patches. 

I took a calculated step forward. The man’s back was facing me; his skin was so pale, it looked almost gray. I could see the bare muscles of his back contract as he brushed a hand against the animal, slowly stroking its chestnut fur. As my eyes adjusted, I looked for the careful rise and fall of the animal’s chest, but he was still. Deathly still. 

Blood pounded in my ears. This man had poached on sacred ground. He had inflicted the wrath of the Gods, a punishment worse than death. As caretaker of the island, I was responsible to help with some of that _inflicting._ But what could I do? I was just one woman and he was a tall, possibly armed and dangerous, man. I would have to wait until nightfall when Sol returned. He would take care of the trespasser.

I watched the stranger, waiting for him to move, to pack up his bounty and leave, to do _anything._ But he remained kneeling, still stroking the stag, his head tilted to the left in the slightest degree. I had been crouched for so long, my legs were fuzzy with pins and needles. I was beginning to feel irritated. Why couldn’t he just leave already?

I quietly pulled myself up. I needed to return; I had been gone too long and Thalia would be beside herself with worry. I half-expected her to come running through the forest, full speed, a butcher knife raised above her head at any moment. The image was tempting, but I decided to save her the trouble and hurry home instead.

I took a step back, my eyes still glued to his back.

_Crunch._

I looked down at my traitorous feet and the dried leaves they had stepped on. I whipped my head back. Maybe he hadn’t heard me?

A pair of dark eyes met mine. A shock of cold fear ran through my body like electricity. He craned his head towards me, squinting into the sunlight.

_“Daphne?”_

Every instinct screamed at me to run, or I would be his next victim. But my feet remained frozen, my body clenched with fear.

“Daphne? Is that… is that you?” His voice grew louder. 

The fear that had seized my body finally released its grasp and I exploded backward, landing on my buttock with a sharp thud. I scratched at the ground, my nails dragging against the dirt. I had forgotten how to stand, my legs turned boneless.

Finally, I scrambled to my feet. I heard him, still calling my name, but I burst through the trees, dodging low hanging branches and jumping over logs. My chest and lungs burned for more air, for me to slow, but I was too afraid to pause even for a moment. I didn’t know if he was following me or not.

Once I could see the house on the horizon, I dared a glance. He wasn’t there.

 _"Daphne,”_ Thalia keened, once I was in arm’s reach. She pulled me into a firm hug and pushed my head against her chest. _“What happened? Are you alright?”_

I pulled away and sat down, staring at the forest. It looked darker than it ever had before. I held my breath, waiting for the stranger to emerge. But nothing happened.

_How did he know my name?_

I looked at the worried servant and mustered the most innocent smile I could manage. “Thalia,” I wheezed between breaths, “old age really has taken a toll on you. All I saw was a dead animal.”

*

Sol darkened the doorway at the same time he did every day: just after sunset. I sat across from Thalia at the dinner table, digging grit from underneath my nails with a toothpick as she furiously scraped at the potatoes with a dull blade. Her worry had quickly turned to fury when I returned this afternoon. She knew I was lying, but it wasn’t her place to question me. She had been giving me the silent treatment as punishment. Future lady of the house or not, she never hesitated to give me a good tongue lashing; this is how I knew she was truly upset with me.

I looked at my hands; the fall had left scratches along my palms and wrists. I pulled down my sleeves to hide the evidence from Sol. The ring had made it through unscathed and for some reason, this irritated me.

“Where is my flower?” His deep, booming voice almost made me jump.

“In the kitchen,” I called out. I don’t know why he bothered asking the same question every night: we were in the kitchen, where we sat waiting for him _every_ night.

Sol appeared, ducking his head beneath the doorway. Even covered with a layer of dust and sweat from a day’s work, he was still dashing. The scruff on his face tickled my face as he leaned in for a kiss. His lips lingered, hungry for something more.

 _"Sol.”_ I glanced towards Thalia. She kept her head down as she worked, choosing to ignore us.

“Daphne,” he replied with a patronizing smile. He didn’t care, this was his house, it was his right to kiss me in front of whoever he wanted. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer. I thought he would lean in for another kiss, but instead, he pulled something from his back pocket and dropped it in front of me.

“What’s this?” At first, I thought he had brought me flowers from town, but as I turned the rose clippings over in my hands, I saw silver-colored petals. Rosebuds clipped before they had the chance to bloom. My heart sunk. “Sol, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see these ones –“

 _"That wasn’t the only thing you missed,”_ Thalia murmured under her breath. I shot her deathly glare across the table.

He held up a hand to silence us and then placed it on my shoulder. His hand felt heavy and strong, as if with the slightest push, I would disappear into the floorboards.

“Daphne,” he said slowly, “this is the only thing I ask you to do. This is your only responsibility. From sun up to sun down, I work and I sweat all day to provide for you, so you can live here comfortably. And this is how you repay me?” He sighed, bowing his head forward. “How can I know you’re ready to be my wife when you can’t even handle this?”

I could feel the tears already stinging my eyes. Bright and hot. _“I’m sorry.”_

Sol regarded me for a moment, his brown eyes as warm as sun-soaked earth, but all I felt was coldness. He touched my cheek. “I know, my love, but you know what you must do: go and ask for forgiveness from the Gods.”

I caught Thalia’s eye as I stood, offering me a sympathetic frown before I left.


	2. Traitorous Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****Non-con touching/potential trigger warning.** Just to be clear, Daphne is not sexually assaulted in this chapter, and she will not be at any point in the story. 
> 
> Daphne returns to the forest to meet the stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Phantom Dingo and LateToThePartie for beta help with this chapter. <3

When I returned home from the temple dedicated to Apollo and Artemis, the patron Gods of our island, the house was eerily quiet. The kitchen was clean, the dishes washed and put back in their cupboards. Thalia had left a plate of food for me on the table, which I greedily ate despite it being cold. I hoped it was proof she had forgiven me for this afternoon.

I sat in front of the bedroom mirror, dragging a brush through my wet, mousy-brown hair. It had started to rain during my walk to the temple, and without even a shawl to protect me, I was soaked by the time I reached the front doors. I had spent the next hour kneeling on cold tile, a puddle of rainwater quickly forming around me, shivering so much I doubted even the Gods could make sense of what I was saying. 

I tied my soggy hair into a braid and climbed into bed. I closed my eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake me, but I couldn’t stop picturing the stranger, kneeling over the stag.

A floorboard creaked outside my door. I shot up in bed, my heart racing, half-expecting to see the stranger in my doorway, here to finally claim his next kill.

It was only Sol. He grinned at me as he leaned against the doorway, his arms folded across his bare chest. I looked down to see he was only wearing a loincloth. 

“Sol, you’re naked!” I hissed, pulling the quilt over my eyes. Blood rushed to my face as he chuckled darkly.

“Not completely,” he said indignantly, lifting the corner of the quilt before climbing in. “Plus, I wanted to give you a little taste. Let you know what you have to look forward to when we’re married.”

I made an annoyed sound as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close so that my body tucked into his. Only the thin cotton fabric of my nightgown separated me from his touch.

“This isn't proper. What if one of the servants catches us?”

He snorted. “Who cares? We’re practically married anyway…” His obnoxiously large muscles on his arms and chest tightened around me, making it painful to breathe. He was right, he was a delight to look at, but right now, I'd probably be more comfortable sleeping on the floor.

He shoved his groin against my buttock and I stifled a gasp at the firmness of his cock. He shoved again, harder this time, in case the first message wasn’t clear. All I could focus on was the sound of blood whooshing in my ears.

“Sol,” I managed weakly.

He made a _hmph_ sound to pretend he was listening, as his hand explored my body. It squeezed my right breast before traveling down my stomach, heading towards the space between my legs.

“Wait!” His hand paused, hovering just above the area. “I am unclean… I’m on my monthly.”

“We could lay down a towel?” He planted a slobbery kiss on my neck before his lips lazily traveled up towards my ear. 

“I want to wait,” I said, rolling over so I could face him. “I want our first time to be perfect.”

“Fine,” he said with an annoyed sigh. I planted a thankful kiss on his cheek. He smiled at me before turning onto his back and facing the ceiling. I waited for him to leave, but nothing happened. I sighed inwardly; I definitely would not be sleeping tonight.

“Sol,” I said after a while. 

“What is it?” His voice was already bleary with sleep.

I twisted the edge of the quilt between my hands. “I was wondering, if maybe, I could go to town with you tomorrow? Help you set up shop?”

His body stiffened. I could already feel the irritation building inside of him. 

“Daph, you already know the answer,” he muttered.

I sighed, leaning back on my elbows. “I know. I know. But you are always so tired when you come home from work and I just want to help alleviate some of that stress.” Sol stared up at the ceiling, his mouth pulled into a firm line. “Just hear me out. I can do whatever you need: sweep the floors, keep track of the books, anything. _Please.”_

Sol shot up. “That’s not the point!” He exhaled a long breath, pinching the bridge between his nose. “Daph, I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous…”

“I can wear a disguise!”

He shook his head. He grabbed my wrist and held it in the air, so my forearm dangled between us. He indicated to the large wine-colored birthmark that stretched across my skin, almost touching my elbow. 

“How are you going to hide this?” He didn’t bother to hide the frustration in his voice. “Or this?” He gestured to the birthmarks that dotted my legs and feet. Finally, he motioned to the worst one of all: the mark that covered the left side of my face like a lopsided bullseye. “And how are you supposed to hide this one?” 

My cheeks burned darker than the hideous marks that covered my skin. 

“Darling,” he said, pulling me into his side. “You think I like keeping you cooped up here?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I do this for _your_ protection. The men who killed your parents, who left you for dead on the shore of my island, are still out there. If they see you, which they will, they will not hesitate to finish the job. Plus, if you really wanted to help me, you would tend to the gardens as I ask.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” My throat was suddenly tight and my voice came out as a squeak. I bit my lip, holding back the tears, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. 

He kissed my head, satisfied, and turned over in the bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep. I followed suit, collapsing next to him. I closed my eyes, exhausted but still feeling wired. I tried to imagine things that usually calmed me: the rose garden, the ocean, Thalia’s freshly baked rolls… but all I could picture was a pair of obsidian eyes peering at me all the way from the forest and into my bedroom window.

*

The bed was empty the next morning, the sheets next to me still warm. I lifted my head towards the window to see the sun slowly peeking over the horizon. I wasn’t surprised, Sol kept a tight schedule, and his boat was gone before the light even touched the water. I closed my eyes, trying to force myself back to sleep, an attempt to catch a few more minutes before Thalia roused me for breakfast. After a few seconds of nothing happening, I sighed in resignation, and I pulled myself out of my warm bed to dress for the day.

“I’m going to the temple to pray. I feel like I haven’t been properly forgiven,” I told Thalia as she cleared my plate. I offered to help clean up, wash up, dry dishes, anything, but she adamantly refused as she did every morning. It was too beneath my station. 

She made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Should I send you with a bag of spare clothes and extra food then? You’ll be there all week if that’s the case.”

I gave her a wry smile. I was glad to see her back to her normal, feisty self. She patted a weathered hand against my cheek. Her fingers carried the earthy but sweet scent of marjoram; she must have been cooking with it this morning. No matter how much she scrubbed, she always smelled like a spice rack.

I eyed the roses carefully as I passed through the garden, running my fingers along the tops of the shrubs as I walked, mindful of any stray thorns. I was surrounded by a wash of robin egg blues and soft coral pinks as the roses stuck their necks towards the sun, proudly presenting their faces to the Gods. No traitorous silver to be seen. Good. Apollo and Artemis would be pleased. 

When I asked Sol why it was so important to cut down the silver buds while sparing the other colors, he gave me a vague answer: We do not need to know every motive of the Gods. I think he was trying to teach me something about faith, or patience, but the truth was he didn’t know either. It still puzzled me though. I found the silver (even though it would be blasphemous to admit out loud) much more beautiful than the other colors. I ached for the chance to see the silver in full bloom, in all its glory.

I paused at the fork in the path, and instead of turning left towards the temple that loomed in the distance, I continued forward towards the forest. I weakly hoped someone would see me from the house, and call out, stopping me from making a terrible, possibly dangerous decision, but all I could hear was the crash of waves in the distance. 

*

There was no sign of the stranger, no evidence he had been here, aside from the dead stag still lying in the field, his belly already bulging with bloat. Not only did he poach on sacred ground, but he did it for his own enjoyment, leaving the perfectly good meat to rot. What a waste.

I wandered through the forest, aimlessly, relishing my time alone, until my stomach protested loudly, reminding me that I was late for lunch. That is when I ran into the stranger, sleeping peacefully against a tree as if he had dozed off waiting for a friend. His back was leaning against the exposed roots, his arms folded across his chest and head bowed forward, as if in mock prayer.

There was no sunlight peeking through the canopy, but his gray skin glowed. He was perfection: a Greek statue come to life.

I felt my body tremble as I realized my mistake. I fell forward, my knees connecting with the mossy floor. I kissed the consecrated ground near his feet. 

He was leaner from how Sol described him. From Sol’s stories, I imagined him as some great brute, with arms and legs as thick as tree trunks. A God who made even Hercules look emaciated. But it didn’t matter, Apollo was even more magnificent in the flesh.

“Oh, great and mighty God, Apollo.” My prayer came out in a quiver, barely louder than a whisper. “Please forgive me for my sins. For my negligence of your garden. I am a stupid mortal…”

I felt him stir, but was too afraid to look. I kept my eyes sealed shut as I willed my thundering heart to slow.

“Daphne? What are you doing?” His voice surprised me: it wasn’t earth-shattering, or even authoritative. It was soft and punctuated with concern.

I finally opened my eyes. The same eyes that haunted me last night stared back at me, but up close, they were even more frightening: dark, bottomless, and surrounded by a blue flame with the intensity of an ocean storm. 

My vision tunneled as if I was looking through a fish-eye lens. I thought I was going to faint, but somehow my body remained upright.

“Daphne,” he said, drawing out the words as if I was simple. And at that moment, I suppose I had been struck-dumb. “Are you okay?” He drew closer. I winced. “Don’t you recognize me?” 

I bowed lower, pressing my face against the cold, wet earth. “Of course, I do. You're the God Apollo.” 

“What? No. C’mon, stop playing, it’s me.” He knelt in front of me and peeled me off the floor. I was limp with fear and moved like dough in his hands. He had a panicked, wild look on his face. “It’s me, Than.” He studied my face, desperately searching. After a moment, his head lolled forward in defeat. “You don’t recognize me.”

My fear subsided for a moment and I felt a wave of intense guilt wash over me. He looked so defeated, so distraught, and I couldn't help but feel sad, knowing I was the one causing his pain. 

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. I tried to catch his eye and offer him a sympathetic smile, but he avoided my gaze. I heard a sniff. I had no idea Gods were even capable of crying. 

He wiped a hand across his face before looking up. The flame in his eyes had diminished, replaced by a sheen of tears. My heart ached.

“I really am sorry.” I patted my dress for a handkerchief tucked away, but found nothing. 

“It’s not your fault. I guess I just thought you were someone else.”

“And her name is Daphne as well?”

His sadness faded for a moment. “Huh?”

“Your friend. She looks like me and her name is Daphne? How strange.”

He didn’t reply. I pulled myself to my feet and quickly brushed the dirt off the front of my dress.

“Well Than,” I said with a quick curtsy, “you bless us with your presence. I hope you enjoy your time here on our humble island. I will stop pestering you now and return home.”

“Wait, please.” He was still kneeling. “Please, as lady of the island, you must show me around.”

I hesitated. 

“Please. I promise I won't hurt you. I am an insignificant God; I don't actually have any powers that can harm you."

*

“How long have you lived here?” 

We sat next to each other on the warm beach sand, two feet apart, as the foamy waves rolled back and forth, licking our toes before retreating back to the ocean.

“A year,” I said, though I was unsure. After living the same day over and over again, my time here had become one endless blur.

“Do you get lonely, being here by yourself?

“I’m not alone. I have my servants.” For some reason, I didn’t mention Sol. I didn’t want to. Even mentioning his presence would dampen my mood. 

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Servants? I didn’t know I was in the presence of royalty.” He mimicked a fake bow in my direction. I laughed, flicking sand at him.

“Don’t you have servants in your great halls that bring you nectar and ambrosia on plates made of pure gold?”

“Something like that,” he said with a long exhale. 

A moment of silence lulled between us. I chewed the inside of my cheek, trying to build up the confidence to ask the question that had been bothering me.

“Why did you kill that stag?”

“The stag?” He pressed a finger to his lower lip as he racked his brain. “Right, the stag. I didn’t kill him. I just noticed him,” he paused, dragging a hand through the shock of white hair, “ _dying_ and I wanted to offer him some comfort as he passed.”

I doubted a God’s compassion was that far-reaching, especially for just an animal, but he seemed sincere. We chatted for a while; he asked me more questions about myself, and I had to embellish a little bit so my life didn’t seem as boring as it was. But he was engrossed with every mundane detail I offered him. After a while, my body relaxed around him, and it felt like I was talking to an old friend instead of a deity I should be worshipping. 

“Daphne,” he said, after a comfortable silence had fallen between us, “I wanted to ask you something.” He turned his body towards me. His chiton draped loosely on his chest and as he leaned closer, I could see the outline of every perfect muscle. His skin was smooth and firm and reflected in the sun like freshly laid marble. Without realizing it, my eyes wandered to the white patch of hair underneath his navel. I found myself wishing I could see where that patch led to...

There was a tight curl in the pit of my stomach. I felt a sudden flash of heat rushing from a place even lower than that.

I realized he had asked me a question: “Are you happy here?”

My mouth fell open. “Of course,” I managed, my mouth suddenly dry. “Why would you ask me that?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just wondering…”

“I need to go," I said quickly, "My servants are probably wondering where I am. Probably worried."

 _“Wait, Daphne.”_

But I was already on my feet, stomping away. My sandals sunk into the sand, causing me to lean forward and almost lose my footing. 

He called my name one more time, but did not follow.


	3. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A servant puts doubt into Daphne's mind, and Daphne makes a dangerous mistake.

I spotted Thalia immediately from the edge of the forest. She was standing near the house with her back to me, hanging wet laundry on a clothesline. I walked quickly, keeping a wide berth between us.

“Daphne. Come here.”

Gods, she must have eyes in the back of her head, I thought as I trudged towards her like a dog with her tail hanging between her legs.

“Back from the temple so soon? I’m surprised the building didn’t collapse on you…” From her tone, I knew she saw what direction I had come, and it wasn’t the temple.

I plopped down in the grass next to her wicker basket full of dried clothes. “If it hasn’t yet, I don’t think it ever will.” 

She snorted and I couldn't help but grin; she couldn't stay cross if I made her laugh.

“Thalia, have you heard of an Olympian named Than?”

“Than?” She unpinned a dress and shook it out before tossing it in the basket. “No, can’t say that I have, but you know there’s so many of them, it’s hard to keep track.” She let out a heavy, exasperated sigh as if Zeus kept adding names to the roster just to annoy her. “Ask Sol, he’ll know.”

Sol only liked to tell stories about Apollo. Once I made the mistake of asking him to spend more time teaching us about Artemis, the huntress twin, and he whacked the side of my head with so much force the teeth in the back of my mouth wobbled. So no, I wouldn’t be asking Sol.

I considered telling Thalia about Than, about the fact I had just communed with a god, but I doubted she would believe me. And I felt ashamed I had dishonored him by leaving so abruptly.

I stood to leave, but she stopped me. “Daphne, I can tell something is bothering you. Are you nervous about the wedding?” She turned to me, and the crow’s feet around her eyes disappeared as her face softened. “You shouldn’t worry, you’re going to be a wonderful mistress.”

My throat tightened. Thalia's words touched me in a way I hadn't anticipated. They made me immediately weak. It was probably because she was the closest thing I had to a mother; I never gave a second thought to my own because Thalia constantly fretted and chastised me, just as I'm sure mine did when she was alive.

But the moment was short-lived because although her words sounded sincere, they felt hollow. The only real responsibility I had so far was tending the gardens – so easy I wouldn't even call it a chore – and we both knew from Sol’s reprimand how much I was failing in that department.

They couldn't even trust me to choose the evening meals, because somehow, I would manage to get that wrong too.

I muttered thanks, nonetheless.

“But there’s more to it, isn’t there? Are you worried about the wedding night?”

“No,” I scoffed. Did she overhear my conversation with Sol last night? I knew the walls in that house were thin, but…

My heart sunk at the realization of what the staff would be hearing on our wedding night.

“You have nothing to be worried about, it’s easy to work for the women,” she said as if reading the dreadful thought in my head. “The first night is painful and there may be a bit of blood, but all you have to do is lie there while he does all the work.”

I would rather have my ears ripped out than have this conversation with Thalia. I suppressed the urge to do just that.

“The act is not so miserable,” she flashed a wicked grin, “when your groom is as handsome as Sol.”

“Good to know,” I forced out between gritted teeth. At least all my hunger pangs were now gone.

Thalia looked at me again, but this time her face was serious, almost grave. “You know, Daphne, you don’t have to marry him… if you don’t want to.”

My mouth fell open. She gripped my arms to stop me from stomping away. 

She raised her chin to meet my gaze, her eyes pleading. “Daphne, I watch you every day in that garden. I know how restless you are. How much you hate it here. You sit on the edge of that bench, bouncing your knees, like you’re just waiting for the right moment to explode out of here.” She held me firm, her grip tightening around my arms. “You didn’t even hesitate when I told you there was a stranger in the woods.”

My voice caught in my throat coming out in a weak, strangled sound. “Thalia, that’s not fair I –”

“I refuse to let you make the same mistake that women make every day. That I made. Marrying someone for convenience. The only difference between you and them is you actually have a choice. No one is forcing you into this marriage. You can leave.”

“What about the men?”

She was quiet, her eyes silently searching. “Daphne, there were no men…”

I tried swallowing the rock forming in my throat but my mouth was too dry. “But – but Sol told me –”

Her mouth was a firm line. “Darling, I was there the day Sol found you. There were no men.”

My body involuntarily shivered, even though I wasn’t cold. I wrapped my arms around my torso, squeezing tight. “But I remember being bloody and bruised.”

“Bloody and bruised? Daphne, you weren’t…” She sighed, shaking her head. “Do you actually remember that? Or think you do, because of what Sol told you?”

 _No no no no no no._ I closed my eyes, my arms squeezing tighter and tighter until my bones creaked.

“Stop it,” I hissed, to silence Thalia and the voice now wailing in my head. Thalia blinked in surprise; I had never spoken so harshly to her. “I may not love Sol, but it doesn’t matter, he is a good man. He will take care of me. I can be happy in marriage, even if there is no love.” I turned away, so I couldn’t see the anguish in her face as I struck the final, devastating blow: “And if you continue to speak this way to me, I’ll have no choice but to tell Sol a servant is speaking to me out of turn.”

*

The kitchen was silent except for the sound of Thalia dragging a wooden spoon along the bottom of a pot as she cooked supper. Since this afternoon, she has given me the cold shoulder, refusing to even meet my eye. I deserved her punishment, and more, even sitting in the same room was her was slow, agonizing torture, but I didn't want to give Sol the impression something was wrong. It would raise suspicions if he found me in any room but the kitchen when he came home, and after being sexually _impeded_ last night, I had a feeling he would be edgy tonight.

So, I sat in the same spot I did every night, trying to distract myself by reading a book under the dim candlelight. Even the other servants could tell something was amiss: the room was so thick with tension they could have cut it with the cutlery they used to set the table.

I tried focusing on the words I was reading, and after a few minutes, I set the book down. I had been reading the same sentence over and over again. I sighed to myself, my head buzzing with so many questions that there was already a dull ache forming near my temples.

Up until this point, it had been Thalia’s mission to keep me safety tucked inside, only allowing me out for short increments, and now she was practically begging me to leave? To not fall into the trap of marriage, as she had?

Thalia never talked about her life before the island. I had foolishly assumed that, like me, she didn’t have a past worth remembering: everything up until now didn’t matter. But maybe, by not talking about it, she had chosen to forget.

Maybe it was too painful to remember.

I wracked my aching brain, trying to remember every detail of that day, looking for some clue to prove she was wrong, but just like me, my memory was useless and unreliable.

All I could remember was waking up on an unfamiliar beach, stirring as the cold tide licked my face. Sol was there, kneeling next to me as he spoke in hushed tones, trying to rouse me but not frighten me. Although I could feel his warmth, his voice sounded distant, garbled, as if he was speaking underwater. He carried me to his home in his arms and I pressed my body close to his firm chest, taking in his musky aroma. I didn’t know who he was, but I knew I was safe.

I slept on and off for weeks, too weak to even lift a cup of water to my mouth. Sol remained fixed by my side, anxious to meet my needs, only allowing Thalia to watch me long enough for him to rest his eyes.

My memory never returned, but once my body was healed enough for him to feel comfortable to leave, he returned to work. His patrons excitedly filled him in on what he had missed: the murder of the local magistrate and his family. Slaughtered in the streets like animals, thanks to the magistrate's power and political influence.

He was quickly able to make the connection: everyone in town knew of the magistrate's daughter marked by the Gods.

Most had believed I had suffered the same fate, but mine was supposed to be much worse. I was beaten within an inch of my life and dumped on an inhabited island to either starve to death or to be feasted upon by wild beasts. Whatever happened first.

That was the plan at least, until Sol intervened.

It was a blessing from the Gods, he had told me, that my memory never returned. The truth of that day would have left me inconsolable. Broken beyond repair. 

My mind may have been untrustworthy, but there was at least the concrete proof of pain. Proof that something devastating had occurred. As my body healed, there were countless nights I woke up howling with agony as if every nerve ending in my body was on fire. Sol was always there, to offer me medicine and to help soothe me back to sleep. He seemed to anticipate the pain, as if he could look into my soul and see the endless peaks and valleys of my suffering, and knew when the next cycle would occur.

I scrubbed my face with my hands, trying to scrub Thalia’s doubt from my mind. Suddenly, I felt her eyes on me, as if the witch could read my thoughts. I whipped my head, trying to catch her eye, but she managed to look away just in time.

*

When Sol returned, I lifted my chin and kissed him. This time I lingered, pulling him closer.

 _See how happy we are?_ I thought, willing Thalia to look in our direction. But she kept her eyes down as she added another sprig of rosemary to the stew.

“How was your day, darling?” I asked him, pressing a hand against his stubbled cheek. I could tell by the redness in his eyes how exhausted he really was.

“Terrible. I’m so glad to be home.”

“You work so hard...”

He nodded. “You have no idea how lucky you are to be home all day.”

My smile tightened against my lips as I gritted my teeth, suppressing the roil of anger that passed through me.

He peeled off the hand that was still cupping his cheek and held it in front of his face, silently scrutinizing it.

Confused, I followed his eyes. 

I yanked it away, realizing my deadly mistake.

“Sol –”

“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”

I forced a laugh, to try to ease the tension, but it came out pitchy and panicked. “Silly me, I must have forgotten to put it on this morning. I would forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on…”

His face darkened, and his voice came out low and gritted, like a growl. _“Why. Why do you always do this?”_

“Do what?”

“Purposely irritate me.” He raised his hands in the air, showing his defeat. “I don’t ask a lot of you, Daphne. I give you an easy life, and you can’t even offer me an ounce of _fucking_ respect.”

I dipped my head forward, my cheeks already burning with embarrassment. I just wished there wasn’t an audience: I could feel the serving girls standing in the safety of the doorway, away from his line of fire, staring at us with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean –” I managed.

Thalia moved behind Sol, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her face set in a stony expression. “Sol. It was an accident. Leave her alone.”

He turned on her with double the venom, but she remained steadfast, not even flinching. “This is all your fault. You are too easy on her. She’s become spoiled under your watch.”

_“She’s not a child.”_

I saw him raise a hand and was on my feet, pushing myself between them before he could strike.

 _“Leave her alone.”_ I didn’t recognize the low voice, but I knew it came from me. Sol blinked at me in surprise, his hand still hovering in the air. I had never spoken to him like this before. This was not his meek, little flower.

He lurched forward, grabbing my forearm. He dragged me through the hallway, my heels dragging, as if I weighed nothing. With my other hand, I dug my nails and scratched at his skin, but his grip only tightened. He squeezed so hard, I thought the delicate bones in my arm might burst into dust. I could hear Thalia behind us, screeching at the top of her lungs for him to stop.

He dumped my body on the cold, hard porch with a single toss. He stared down at me, his expression offering no sympathy, as he leaned against the doorway.

“I don’t know what else to do,” he said, his voice bone-chillingly calm. “I don’t know how else to teach you.”

Tears and snot ran down my face but I didn’t wipe them away. He watched me, the corners of his lips curling downward in disgust.

“If you’re so miserable here, if you want to leave so badly, then you can sleep outside.”

I could hear Thalia behind him, screaming and scratching at him like a rabid dog. He turned towards her, unfazed. “If you so much as toss her a blanket, I’m sending you back to the slums where I found you.”

The door slammed and I heard a click as he locked it behind him. The floorboards creaked as he thudded away, the sound quickly disappearing, and I was finally alone. I waited, hoping and praying that he would have a change of heart, and let me back inside. Surely, dragging me through the house was punishment enough.

But nothing happened.

A breeze of cold night air passed through me and I shivered against it, wrapping my arms around the too-thin fabric of my dress.

I turned to face the vast emptiness of the night. This is all I’ve ever wanted, to be outside, unsupervised, and alone… and yet, I would give anything to be let back in. I suppressed the intense panic threatening to take over, telling myself it was just one night. I could survive one night.

I swallowed hard as I walked towards the forest, my knees threatening to buckle under each step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to LateToThePartie for your beta help. :)


End file.
